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User blog:ISAAC Organization/Capt William Rogers - Personal Log
I don't mind peace and quiet. In fact, I usually prefer it. I've always been a bit of an introvert. It helps to be one when you're an astronaut. Not many of us rocket jockeys strive to be the life of the party. We pretty much stay to ourselves. Here on my mission to RED, it gets a little old at times. I can do the work. I'm fully trained. Fear is just a word that means I need to try harder. But I know this, I don't want to be alone in my command capsule forever. I have a life back on HOM. And I intend to get back to it as soon as I can. Talking with Mission Control can be a little boring, but it's becoming a pleasure to keep in touch with people back on HOM. Even Mr. Newton makes time to talk with me almost everyday! And who can say they get to talk to a founder and CEO of a multi-trillion dollar space agency at work. This is where I've wanted to be since I was a little kid. This is exactly what I've wanted, for years. To be an astronaut. To fly in space. To someday walk on another planet. It doesn't matter the reason why I'm here. Whether I'm planting a flag on LUN, or I'm planting roses on GRN, I don't care. I just want to be HERE. Doing THIS. And I made it! A lot of good people gave me breaks. They pushed me when I slacked off. We have a lot of excellent programs at ISAAC to get people into the right positions. Even Mr. Newton himself spent time with me. We talked about space exploration. He said he envied me. He told me to make my mark in the universe… and by Gawd I'm going to! Seven ISSAC astronauts helped build this capsule from the ground up. Our input was like gold! The designers, technicians, and builders took notes on everything we said, every time we visited the prototype construction facility. We seven feel like a little of ourselves lives inside each capsule. These capsules will be ISAAC’s workhorses. We're flying the initial RED missions, then they'll be used by dozens of astronauts to explore the entire solar system. We have everything we need aboard our command capsules, and some things that maybe we don't... Like our wrist-comms. They're pretty neat little gadgets! A watch, a bracelet, a micro-computer, that gives you practically unlimited access to and control of your spaceship. They’re almost like those chest comm-badges they use in all those Star Trek TV shows, but not quite as super high-tech. Using it, I can use voice commands to do hundreds of things aboard ship. I can even fly my capsule from down below in the can using it. But twice a day, ISAAC Org, like most other space agencies, has their astronauts keep a personal log. And it's about that time. Just my thoughts, out loud, for 5 minutes. My wrist-comm is the camera and the microphone. So… here goes… I double-tap the display screen on my wrist-comm, and its face blinks to life, all aglow here inside my dark and quiet command capsule. I mutter out loud, "Comm-Log Start…" and a little red light activates on the wrist-comm. I've been doing this for a month and it still feels weird. I float over to the cockpit window, and gaze longingly out into the eternal night in which I'm travelling. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star…", I sing softly to myself. "But they don't twinkle out here in space. In fact, now that my spacecraft is pointed away from SOL, I can see billions of stars." "It's odd. I know I'm traveling at 9% of the speed of light, but the stars never seem to move. It's totally different from HOM, where buildings and trees and things get closer to you all the time when you're moving. It's a learned pre-conception from our very first experiences: that things get bigger as we get closer to them." "But there's NO sensation of movement here in space. The stars are just... there. I almost feel like I'm stuck motionless in the middle of an endless celestial ocean, and the stars are on the far shore of that ocean, at the very edge of space." "It's an odd feeling. A strange sensation, like something is crawling up the back of your neck. You can almost believe you're not moving at all, and that you'll be trapped in this same spot in the universe forever." All of our training helps, but it's nigh impossible to override your senses, and put aside the experiences that imprinted on your brain every second of every day of your life. But you deal with it. The first two years of basic preparation, the next five years of specific training and the last three months of in-space hands-on zero-g training. It's what let's you push aside the gnawing unease and keep functioning. Looking around my capsule, I'm still amazed at all the work done by all the thousands of geniuses that built this rocket ship for me and my fellow astronauts. I continue my log entry. "They teach you to deal with weightlessness, how to perform hundreds of repetitive tasks basically in your sleep, how to stay focused in times of stress, how to think outside the box." "But they don't specifically prepare you to deal with the lack of more subtle things, like the emptiness. The vast totality of seeing absolutely nothing anywhere. It just feels… wrong. Well, not wrong, but, not right." "But I'm good." Nodding to myself. Pausing to reflect on the sheer depth of the expanse before me, none of which I can actually see, my mind wanders. I'm such a tiny speck in the solar system, little alone, in the universe. In all my high school science classes, my college astronomy classes, and all my other training about the universe and our part in it, I still can't fathom how everything actually fits together with so much nothing between it. I know, there's Dark Matter and a dozen other theories about HOW it all works, but those just don't actually click in my mind. I'm a visual person. Most of us astronauts are. If Dark Matter is the binding force of the universe, I hope to Gawd a big ball of it isn't somewhere up a billion miles ahead of me right now. Or else I'm gonna pancake all over the side of it when I get there. "Oh crap! Sorry, Mission Control. My mind wandered!" "Now back to my log… ISAAC Org’s shrinks had me list things I'd miss while I was on this mission to RED." "Obvious stuff like: Rain. Hot showers. Gravity. Swimming. But after listing about a hundred things, I stopped. Honestly, it was getting a little depressing." "But a month into my new found rocket solitude, I decided to make a new list. One for fun." "You folks back on HOM might think I'm crazy, but I believe I'm finally thinking in the way that Dr. Huer wanted me to. I miss things like the miniscule weight of sheets on my skin, the rustle of leaves under my feet when walking outside, the way the mattress shifts when my girlfriend rolled over in bed at night, seeing steam rise and twirl slowly from scrambled eggs as they cook in the frying pan, the warmth of sunlight on my face, and the millions of smells we encounter every minute of every day back on HOM." "The smells are probably the things I miss most. Really. Well... BESIDES MY GIRLFRIEND! I miss her the most!" "Smells let me know I'm part of a bigger picture. Back on HOM, all the smells we encounter everyday is almost like swimming in an ocean of gentle breezes. In a way, I even… I know it sounds weird, I kinda even miss the smell of farts." I'm certain the look on my face right now must be stupid, but I'm trying to be serious and make a point. I tap the window, the right words are slow coming to mind. I have to make this make sense. "You know, it kind of reminds you that you're alive, that you're human, and let's you know you're still a big kid at heart." I glance down at my wrist-comm, almost hoping that it isn't recording… that I screwed up the start routine and isn't saving my log. '' ''But it's true, you DO have to be a kid inside to be in this business. To feel the need for adventure burning inside you. "Everything is so antiseptic inside my capsule, you know, guys. It's an incredible ship that you built for me! But at least back on station VOL, you could smell the smells… even farts! Hahaha!" I know… keeping this sounding professional is failing horribly. I straighten up and take a moment to breathe slowly and deeply. I really REALLY wonder what the video of all this looks like. "Just before I undocked from VOL and began this journey, Vladimir Grenko and I were killing time one afternoon, and him being one of those 'crazy Russians', he told me about a game his fellow cosmonauts play, to see who is 'the best'." Yep. I'm in too deep. I shake my head slightly in frustration. Might as well go ahead finish the story. I breathe deeply and push on. "It's a fart-powered race. Two cosmonauts strip down to their underwear, each curls up into a tight ball, legs pulled up, arms wrapped around their legs, head tucked down… and they try to expel sufficient gas to propel themselves across the station module. The only rule is NO BODY MOVEMENT. First one to bounce off the far wall is the winner." "I didn't believe him at first, but he had pics and vids on his phone! No kidding! And Vladimir said he was the reigning cosmonaut champion!" "On board VOL, he beat me 5 times in a row." I laugh nervously, trying to lighten the story. Too bad I didn't take any myself back then to prove all of this. "But, guess what, guys, I've been practicing lately… a lot! HA HA HA!" "After the mission, when I get back to the station in 11 months, I'm gonna beat my Russian buddy at his own game! No if’s and’s or BUTT’s about it! Ha ha ha!" "Oh well, I’ve got some assignments to do. Signing off. Comm-Log End." When this log transmits back home after while, either the shrinks back at ISAAC will be laughing their asses off, or running to tell Mr. Newton they need to bring the capsule back cause I've finally lost all my marbles. Category:Blog posts